The Lovers Grimm
by Phantasmik
Summary: The jam is in the fish tank, there are dirty socks in the fridge, and a bowling ball in the pantry. It's seven o'clock on a Saturday morning and Shisui is far too exhausted, and definitely too hung over to deal with ghosts.


_**You have (1) unheard message. First unheard message from UNKNOWN CALLER on October fifth, 2010 at 9:14pm. **_

_*beep*_

Um- hello, I believe this is uh, The- Lovers Grimm? Shee-sue-ee? I was calling about your ad in the paper, that you- that you exorcise spirits? And it looks like you're located in Corpus, so it isn't too terribly far. And well, I would really like it if I could maybe speak to you in person? It's just- I don't really know what to do and my husband thinks that I'm crazy, but-

_*crash*_

I just, I can't do this anymore, I don't know what I did _wrong_-

_*indistinct screaming*_

My name is Sarah O'Riley and you can contact me on my cell at 469-448-9972, just please, I can't-

_*beep*_

_**End of new messages. To check old messages, press one. To change your personal options, press two. To disconnect, press star. **_

* * *

The jam is in the fish tank again. There's country music blaring from beneath the door of that third bedroom down the hall, combined with the rhythmic thumping of a headboard clattering against the wall. Someone moans. On the other hand, the first bedroom to his left is eerily quiet, though every couple minutes there's a strangely muffled sound that Shisui thinks might be gunshots. There's a bloody handprint smeared across the door.

The jam is in the fish tank, there are dirty socks in the fridge, and a bowling ball in the pantry. The air conditioning makes a creaking sound every time it switches on that sounds like a poltergeist is trapped inside and shortly afterwards, a musty smell reminiscent of closed doors and mothballs infiltrates the air space. They have coffee and sugar, but the cream comes out in lumps.

There's vodka, cranberry juice, beer, and blood spread in random puddles across the kitchen tile, and Shisui takes a moment to silently mourn the loss of their booze. From his spot at the kitchen counter, Shisui has a perfect view of their decimated living room, the blood spattered across ripped couch cushions, the overturned coffee table and the glistening shards littering the floor from when one of the demon's had tried to break out a window despite the rock salt blocking it's path.

No less than seven corpses are scattered across the apartment, and their wallpaper looks like it came straight out of The Shining. Of course Reno would be the one to suggest inviting the demon's in for a "party" and then shirk the cleaning duties.

It is seven o'clock on a Saturday morning and Shisui is far too exhausted, and _definitely_ too hung over to deal with another job this early.

Before he has time to consider the disconcerting voicemail he'd just deleted, his cell phone starts belting out the opening bars of Thriller. He lets it cycle through once, and finally sets his coffee aside and reaches for it.

"Shisui speaking," he sighs, twiddling his thumbs and wondering if they have anything worth eating in the fridge. He thought he might have seen some eggs beside the socks, but considering the cream, they may or may not be very safe to eat. His stomach protests at the mere _thought_ of the cream, and he queasily decides to just stick with the toast.

"Hey. I called you last night."

Itachi. Shit. He has a vague recollection of noticing his phone going off while he'd been shanking the skanky looking demon in the tank top, but at the time, he'd been more concerned with keeping his head attached. He brushes some glass off the counter, kicks a severed arm back into the living room. "Yeah, I was a little busy."

A beat of silence and he stirs sugar into his coffee, leans back against the counter, and sips. Too hot. His toast pops. "Busy?"

"Yeah. We-" in Reno's room, a smattering of gunfire breaks out, quickly followed by a loud cry of victory. _Ah, Halo._ "...had a party. "

"Oh."

More silence. Shisui can almost identify the moans coming from Zack's room, and kind of wishes he couldn't.

" ...'Oh?"

Itachi clicks his tongue against his teeth, sniffs a little indignantly. "I wasn't invited."

In the background, Shisui can hear the clattering of cutlery and a young voice shouting about how _no, I wanna sit by nii-san_. Must be breakfast over there too, he thinks. His mouth waters, _god, what he wouldn't do from some of Mikoto's pancakes._ He regards the state of their apartment, considers the blood on the walls and the smell of bile and tries to think of Itachi in the middle of it. Sure, he'd be able to handle himself alright, has proven himself capable of handling Shisui's guns before, but Shisui's always been a bit more protective of him. Which is why he promptly replies, "It was a party for adults."

Itachi scoffs and the background noise fades, as if he were stepping out through the back door. "So, I can have intercourse with you on occasion, but I can't come to your party."

Shit. A bit desperately, Shisui casts around for something he can say to that. Settles, a bit stupidly, on, "Don't you have homework to do?"

The silence is too loud and Itachi scoffs again, quietly. "I don't have anything to 'do' for a while."

"Wait- Itachi-"

He pulls back a bit, and sure enough, _Call Ended_ flashes across the screen like it's mocking him.

"Shit."

His toast is cold, his coffee tastes like shit, and they have a job to do.

Fucking Saturdays.

* * *

Shisui met Zack through a friend of a friend's cousin's sister when Shisui was still attending high school and frantically searching for a roommate. His dad had died, his house had been repossessed, and while his Aunt Mikoto was extremely sympathetic, Shisui only made it three months of living with them before the need to lick Itachi's teeth became unbearable.

So he'd moved out, got a job at one of the shitty restaurants down the road, and secured himself his own apartment. Of course, then he'd realized that it was near impossible for a sixteen year old to afford his own two bedroom and _actually_ keep it.

So he began his search, and eventually, through said friend of a friend's cousin's sister he had met Zack. Energetic, talkative Zack who had burst into his apartment with a bag already packed and asked where his bed was. Military background, three years older than him, enlisted just out of high school. Scaled the ranks faster than anyone of his generation.

They'd gotten along. Shisui hadn't said anything about Zack's lovers; the girlfriend, the weird guy _or_ the blonde kid and Zack didn't ask awkward questions about why Shisui's cousin slept over so often.

There had been fights about laundry and cracked dishes and often arguments about whether or not Zack could drive him to school whenever he slept in too late and missed the bus.

Shisui graduated, got accepted at a decent college near enough to the apartment that he wouldn't have to move out. Zack got promoted. It was nice.

And then it started happening. People from the college had started disappearing, no notes, no nothing.

The bodies had started showing up a week later, drained of blood, necks and wrists and pelvises mauled.

That's how they met Reno.

The redhead had barged into their apartment an hour or so after Shisui had gotten back from classes one day and threatened them with his Browning for fifteen minutes before Zack finally stopped glaring and actually listened.

Apparently, Shisui wasn't careful enough. Apparently, he was too pretty, too fair-skinned, too dark-haired.

The vampire had been stalking students for weeks, Reno said. "It likes the pretty ones," he'd grinned. It had a type, an obsession. Young, pale, dark-haired. Usually just gorged itself, but occasionally turned its victims. Reno told them that it had locked onto Shisui, that it had tried to follow him home.

They had killed it together, used Shisui as the bait. Made it look like he was alone and helpless in the apartment. And for a few seconds, he had been. The creature had crashed in through the bedroom window, pinned him up against the bed, and slid needle-thin teeth into Shisui's neck.

It had still been fumbling at Shisui's belt loops when Reno and Zack had burst in.

He still had the scars. They made a good story.

After that, Reno had just stuck with them, crashing on their couch for weeks before he finally suggested, with a grin, "How do you feel about hunting?"

And that, as they say, was that. He'd always kind of had a feeling that the things that went bump in the night may have been a bit more than stories, that there were just too many ghost stories in the world for them all to be fake. And Zack was always good at saving people, that military kind of hive mind that apparently gives everyone hero complexes a mile wide. So really, there was never a reason to say _no_.

No reason not to laughingly give in to the absurd notion of putting _ads_ in the paper. The Lovers Grimm, always ready for your ghostly needs. And maybe they dealt with a lot of prank calls, been asked to retrieve many a runaway kitchen appliances, and occasionally asked to assist in a wayward séance, but it was always worth it for that one look on someone's face the moment they realize that you've saved their life.

* * *

"I just don't see why you couldn't have waited like, _ten more minutes_, that's all."

Shisui rolls his eyes and doesn't look at Zack. In retrospect, it was probably his own fault. He should have known that when he knocked, Zack's shout of "Yeah?" wasn't exactly an invitation to come in. Should have realized that Zack isn't like normal people, that he doesn't lock his doors and that, when he's having sex, he doesn't wail "Don't come in!" if someone knocks.

Just a couple paces ahead of them, Reno clubs a four year old in the head with a baseball bat. It flickers. Disappears.

See, what most people don't get is that hunting ghosts and monsters has _nothing_ in common with the movies. Hunting ghosts is kind of like being assassins, but scarier, you get significantly less pay, and strangely enough, it's a lot more dangerous. If something is fucked up during an assassination, the most that would happen is you'd get shot. Boom,boom, you're gone. Just like that. You fuck things up with a ghost or a demon and they can make you _hurt_- twist your bones, curdle your blood in your veins, crawl inside and slither up against your liver, brush against your ribs, and tug your strings like a marionette until you're begging to be put out of commission.

The first time that Reno had _really_ taken them hunting, Shisui had upchucked for days. There's just something about seeing a possession gone wrong that fucks with you. The Exorcist had nothing on what happened when a demon threw your body out a window from the inside, let a fourteen year old girl's skull shatter against the pavement below.

The four year old, Jim O'Riley is a redheaded little menace, ruddy, chubby cheeks just begging to be pinched- soft blue eyes that haven't had the chance to go green yet. Normally, he'd be out playing with his friends on the side of the street, having little old ladies coo about what a perfect little angel he was. He'd be a cute kid if his face weren't streaked in blood, if there wasn't mud dripping down his neck, and a chuck of skull peeking through his tangled hair.

And he is a little _bastard_, not a perfect baby angel at all, reappearing too fast and face twisting into a snarl, but-

_Pain, pain, pain._ A seven year old girl grins at him over his shoulder, slides her fingers in through his back, playing the line of his vertebrae like one of the cute and colorful little baby pianos parent's always get their kids. It hurts. They'd been warned about this. That it was the sister that was the problem, that the boy did everything his big sister said and that if you take her out...

There are still fingernails embedded in the wooden planks of the shed, a lock of hair snagged on a nail when their killer had dragged them in.

Zack turns towards him when he cries out, away from the shed, making a panicked noise in the back of his throat and starting forwards, as if he's going to move _away_ when he's two feet from _ending_ this-

A shot, a loud booming sound so close and the fingers clawing up his insides vanish. Reno is smoldering, glaring at Zack and calling over, "Zack, set the fucking shed on _fire_- no, fuck, salt _first._"

Shisui slumps back, slides down the wall, gasping. He brushes two trembling fingers up against his back, unsurprised when his fingers come away bloody. He's dizzy and woozy, and if she'd gotten those dirty fingers in too deep, punctured an organ he's gonna be shit out of luck. In front of him, Hannah O'Riley flickers back into being and smiles sweetly at him. Breathes, _Want ta play, mister?_

Reno's eyes widen but the little boy is still flickering to and fro around him, he can't do much, just shouts "Now, now, now!"

The girl's fingers reach, brush up against his cheek- burst into flame.

A triumphant shout, a screech of agonized rage, Zack's grinning face in front of his. Shisui smiles, tries to flash a thumbs up and everything goes a little pear-shaped.

He's so fucking sick of going to the hospital.

* * *

_**You have (1) unheard message. First unheard message from Tall Dark & Handsome on October sixth, 2010 at 2:33 PM.**_

_*beep*_

Reno, there's an incubus doing the rounds in Vegas. Picked the shittiest bar there, but I figured you'd want a shot at it. Get to it before someone else does. Tifa says she'll start passing the word around if you don't call back in a couple hours. Have fun.

...And seriously, change your fucking message, you sound like you're bangin' someone."

_*beep*_

_**Message deleted. You have no new messages. To check old messages, press one. To change your personal options, press two. To disconnect, press star.**_

* * *

Their Doctor- the one they go to whenever one or more of them gets fucked up on a job tells them that there are three hair-line fractures running through Shisui's top three ribs, that there's bruising externally and internally, and that the kidney's a bit bruised as well. Not bad, considering their track record, but still enough for Doctor Reynolds to glare at them and tell Reno to keep the kid out of the line of fire for a couple days.

Which had been around the time that Reno had noticed that he'd missed a couple calls.

Now, Reno _likes_ incubi. Hell, Reno likes _sex_, so really, what's not to like? Add the fact that sex demons aren't _always_ necessarily bad, that they feed off sex, but most of them don't kill. That they just take as much as they need and leave the human blissfully fucked out of their mind and maybe a bit more drained than usually and that's Reno's kind of demon.

But sometimes, there are the rogues. The ones that go on killing spree after killing spree, leaving a fresh trail of naked bodies in their wake. And these are the ones they get calls about.

Of course, this doesn't stop Reno from grinning at Zack once he's hung up the phone, flicking a wayward bang out of his eyes and calling a heartfelt "dibs" across the hospital bed.

* * *

It's been awhile since Reno's hunted alone. In fact, he's pretty sure the last time it happened was when Zack got called away on family business back in whatever hick town he'd grown up in and Shisui's weird little cousin had dragged him away on 'vacation', which as far as Reno's concerned has always meant _I want some proper alone time to screw your roommates brains out, hope he doesn't need it for the next few hunts._ It's almost too bad that Itachi's so invested in college, because Reno's pretty sure the kid would make a ruthless hunter if they ever got around to teaching him.

The bar he's scoping out is dirty, the dusty, dank kind that no one in their right mind would want to drink from, except it's cheap and rumor has it, so are its whores.

It's in the worst part of the slums, the little alleys and back roads where people get murdered, raped, and mugged on a daily basis. If Reno were a different person, he might be worried. But he's not, and has already dispatched four would-be muggers with little to no trouble.

Still, the bar is too quiet. It doesn't look like a place that has had six of its patrons sexed to death in the back rooms recently, it just looks like what it's supposed to, a seedy pub.

It's just as quiet inside, the jangle of the door opening almost deafening. Reno tosses back another shot of tequila- just his fourth, glances belatedly at the door while he's signalling the bartender for another. Double takes because _shit_-

The redhead seems to notice him at the exact same time, and their eyes meet- green on green and seriously, _holy fucking shit_-

The guy slides into the stool next to him, tossing a casual smirk his way and brushing candy-apple red hair away from his cheek. "So, Mister Doppleganger, what are you having?"

On cue, the scowling bartender sets another shot before him- one that the newcomer scoops up and tosses back in one smooth, practiced motion, licking his lips like the burn in his throat is nectar. The man grins. "You've got good taste."

If Zack could see him right now, he would call him a narcissist and a fucking hypocrite and probably a cradle robber, since the kid looks like he hasn't even hit twenty yet, and then he'd probably set up a tradition of buying Reno set after set of elaborate mirrors for his birthday. A scheme that he would, inevitably, rope Shisui into.

Shisui would probably just laugh at him and tell him not to be too loud.

Nothing really changes the fact though, that when the man grins at him and shifts an inch closer to Reno, his cock perks up immediately. Probably too quickly even considering the thoughts that are going through his mind right now.

Demon. Incubus. Sex-related deaths. Painful, painful levels of horny.

The incubus smiles at him, and it's the smile of someone who knows he's gonna get what he wants, and he _loves_ it. He signals the bartender again for two more shots, _let me make it up to you_, he breathes, trailing dark nails through the fine, red, hairs of Reno's arm and just that touch has Reno squirming, rubbing his thighs together a bit because _fuck_, he wants it.

"The name's Axel," the demon purrs, lips brushing up against Reno's ear and he _shivers_. "What's your name?" Axel grins, tossing back his own shot and passing Reno his. And for a moment, this gives him pause, because should he really be telling this creature who he is? Somehow, he doesn't think it is, but fuck it.

"Reno," he finally grins back, glad that his moment of weakness seems to be past.

Axel leans closer, a hot line against Reno's side and says, "So _Reno_, darling, wanna get ourselves a room? I hear they have mirrors on the ceiling."

Reno shudders, thinks, 'I _really_ like incubi', and 'well, maybe he isn't the right one', and 'fuck, fuck, fuck, I am such a fucking narcissist' all lined up in a row. He's got an iron knife stuffed down the back of his pants, another smaller one in his boot, and then, in case of emergencies, he has a thin throwing needle -also iron- threaded into his ponytail. He figures that if this does turn out to be the one, he can handle it, and if not, he'll get some really fantastic sex and maybe even some help finding some information about the demon that's _actually_ the problem.

He thinks, _fuck it_, and then says it. Grabs the demon floozy by one smooth soft, pale wrist and drags him towards the stairs.

* * *

The room is even dirtier than the pub, sheets a worn grey and stained so many times over that they look like they were _made_ that way. And well, yes, there are mirrors on the ceiling, and that might be the best thing about the place. In the corner, there's a couple used condoms, probably tossed there and forgotten.

The second they're in the room Reno's shoving up against the creature, slamming him back against the door, pinning him there with a tight grip to his wrists- already licking a hot trail down the guy's neck. The demon _purrs_, hips stuttering and breath uneven. Presses back against Reno and grinds, whining low in his throat and-

"Show me," Reno hisses, slicking his hand with spit and thrusting it down and into the other man's pants, grips Axel's cock- squeezes until the guys moans, wheezing "_Fuck_, man. Show ya what?"

Reno pumps once, torturously slow, and then again- a snap of his wrist that's almost too fast. He grins and leans close, the way that Axel had back in the bar and says, sing song and playful, "I know what you are."

Axel goes stiff, one long tense line and for a moment, Reno wonders if he's misjudged the guy, if this really is the creature that he's hunting. Then the tension's melting free and Axel's grinning, smarmy and lazy, the green of his eyes going acid-bright in the dim light, tattoos dribbling down his cheeks like they really _are_ tears- spreading and lacing in intricate patterns, the darkened ink taking on the sheen of oil slicked across the surface of a puddle. Neatly trimmed nails are lengthening and sharpening into dangerous looking talons, sharp incisors peeking out beyond his smirk and-

_Horns_.

Curved, majestic things of obsidian, beautiful and somehow _regal_. Reno's never seen an incubus with horns like _those_.

Axel grins at him and fangs flash.

Reno wonders just what he's gotten himself into, how old this demon is, and why it seems so much different than all the others. He wants to ask, wants to hear just what Axel is, but there's a hand tearing its way into his pants, fingers wrapping around his cock that make it difficult to dwell on the _little_ things.

They stumble over to the bed together, and when Axel shoves him down- quick to roll right on top of him, Reno's absolutely sure that he's going to get fucked right into the mattress. But Axel just slides out of his pants, pulls a thin tube of something from his pocket, and fingers himself open- rubbing his cock against Reno's belly all the while.

Reno almost closes his eyes, but at the last second remembers the mirror and glances up- stares.

Pressed so close together, they look like twins- the differences fading and faltering and _fuck_ it all, but he's got a _tail_, which he uses to wrap around Reno's upper thigh and tug him even closer til his cock's brushing up against the demon's hole, hot and slicked wet and dripping with lube.

From there it's easy. Easy to nudge himself up, sliding smoothly into Axel, easy to let the demon set the pace- to just let Axel ride him. Easy to lie back and watch them moving, watch the way his own toes curl and how there's a faint, barely-there tremble quaking Axel's spine.

It's easy to watch Axel come, lips parted, body arched- easy to appreciate the fact that he keeps riding Reno all the way through to orgasm, never faltering.

Afterwards, when Axel's curled up around his hips and practically purring with satisfaction, cigarette dangling loosely from kiss-swollen lips, does he decide to ask.

"Nice meal?" he asks, hand already going for the knife in his boot. But Axel just grins a bit, glances up at him through red lashes, and purrs happily, "What do you think?"

The demon isn't making any moves towards him, and he feels a bit drained but not sexed _dead_. So he was right, this isn't his demon. So maybe he could get something other than a great fuck out of this. "So-" he starts, lazily draping his leg over one of Axel's.

"I don't know him," Axel interrupts, flicks ash over the side of the bed. "That's actually why I'm here today. A couple of us are wondering. After all," he grins, "We usually take care of our own messes."

"You don't have _any_ clue? At all? No Incubus-gone-wild tracker or something?"

Axel's smiling affectionately now, taking a smooth drag of his cigarette. Exhales. Reno watches, fascinated, as the smoke tendrils rise up to curl around his horns. "Nope, no Incubus-gone-wild, for us."

The corners of the rooms are cracked, little nooks in the plaster in which rain leaks through. There are spider webs clinging to the ceiling and dust to the floor. The sheets are scratchy, and he may have gotten a truly excellent lay, but he's also wasted the last couple hours on an incubus that isn't actually the one he wants.

He sighs, casts a glance around for his pants, starts to slide from the bed-

"Wait-"

Axel may look forever like a scrawny, albeit very pretty twenty year old, but he's pretty fucking strong. Also, convincing. He grins and plucks the cigarette from his mouth, lets the smoke out in Reno's face. His eyelashes flutter.

"Now, Reno. I said I didn't know him." The demon's grin widens, and he tugs hard enough that Reno goes back down onto the bed before him, half in his lap. Axel leans down to brush a sloppy kiss to his mouth, shivers when he pulls back. "You really do taste rather good, you know?" he remarks candidly, kissing a line down Reno's arm until those warm lips reach his wrist.

"I don't know him, but I never said that I wouldn't _help_ you. Vegas is a big place, even if all his previous hits have been here. Who knows, he might have moved on. Hit one of the bigger casinos."

Fangs glint in the dim light, and Axel's smile is positively wicked. "After all, two hunters are better than one."

* * *

_**You have (2) unheard messages. First unheard message from Reno on October ninth, 2010 at 3:56 AM. **_

_*beep*_

Zack, Zack, Zack! My man, Zack! Lemme tell ya, man. Vegas? Is fucking _awesome_. Booze, liquor, women- oh and hey, crazy incubus is gone! Me and Axel took care of it- aw no, you don't even know who he is! *laughter* You'll never believe it! He looks like me- I' mean, 'cept for the fangs an' shit.

But hey, listen kid, I'm flying back on the eleventh, so be a pal and come get me from the airport, yeah?

You, my man, are a fucking _peach_. A peach, you hear me? *indistinct voices*

But hey, I gotta go, they think Axel's a stripper and we're about to pull the best fucking con ever. Danny Ocean ain't got nothin' on us-

_*beep*_

_**Message deleted. Next message from Tifa on October tenth, 2010 at 10:57 AM. **_

_*beep*_

"Zack. Zaaaaaaack. Wake up, lazy bones. You'd be surprised what a nasty infestation of restless spirits can do to the livelihood of a town. A bunch of ghosts have gone and gotten their panties in a twist, and I'm the one who gets to lose business! I sent Cloud to assess the situation, but you _know_ how he is with his phone. But I really think he could use the help. So get to it! And drag those two roommate's of yours up here with you. I'm counting on you!

_*beep*_

_**Message deleted. You have no new messages. To check saved messages, press one. To change your personal options, press two. To disconnect, press star. **_

* * *

The 711 down the street had been out of coffee. And so was the El Cheapo a couple blocks after that, the seedy one with the creepo manager just past that club that Reno sometimes dragged them to. At that point, he'd almost been ready to make the journey to the Wal-Mart a couple miles away or brave one of the Starbucks scattered around the campus, because seriously, what was it, exam week?

But no, the Speedway on 12th St had saved him.

He's got a bag of Folgers, cream, and sugar in one hand and a 12 pack of Blue Moon in the other, so pleased with himself that he's whistling one of those silly pop songs under his breath that Shisui always leaves playing in the van and skipping the stairs two at a time

_" There's a place downtown, where the freaks all come around-"_ he shifts the bag to his hip, sets the beer down so he can fumble his keys free of his pockets. Nope, mentos. Nuh uh, Reno's lighter. Change, more change, and _aha_. Key is in the door and-

_"It's a hole in the wall. It's a dirty free for-"_ Stupid song's way too catchy.

The door swings open and his mouth immediately starts watering. The house smells like a billion apple trees. His first thought as he walks through the threshold is pretty much a long line of frenzied thank you's. His second is more along the lines of "oh my god, _Itachi_ is over", followed by a great deal of bouncing and maybe forgetting the beer in the hallway for a couple of seconds in his excitement.

Sure enough, he finds Itachi in the kitchen, leaning back against the refrigerator and scowling at the now pristine counters. Apparently he'd cleaned while Zack was out. Down the hall, situated in Reno's room, he can hear Shisui playing... what sounds like Mortal Kombat if the loud, echoing "Finish Him!" is any indication. He grins over at Itachi, slides the twelve pack onto the counter and sets the bag of coffee down next to it.

"Baking?" he asks, yanking the coffee supplies from the plastic bag and shoving them next to the beer. Itachi shrugs. "Got bored," he answers, flicking his hair back over his shoulder and eying the timer. Three more minutes. Ooh, exciting.

"Took you awhile," Itachi says quietly, grabbing the beer and the creamer off the counter and stooping so he can shove them both into the fridge. Zack yawns and stretches, meandering around the island so he can set the coffee next to the pot. "Yeah, they're out of coffee _everywhere_. What's up with that, huh, partner? Are y'all havin' exams this week or somethin'?"

Itachi laughs and points to a neat collection of notes laying on the counter. "Midterms," he corrects.

"Sucks, buddy. Want me to quiz you?" The timer goes off, and Itachi slides their worn oven mitt onto a slender hand, the one with the sentient cactus grinning up at them that Aerith had gotten him when she'd realized they didn't have one. Itachi shakes his head as he's bending to grab it, calls over his shoulder, "That's all right. Shisui has it covered."

Mmm, pie.

Itachi smiles over at him, small and secretive, just a little quirk of the lips that most people would mistake for a smirk, and leans over the island a bit as he's sliding the pie onto the surface. "You _can_, however, test this pie for me when it cools."

Shisui is _never_ going to let this kid get away. Zack will make sure of it.

* * *

"Well aren't you just a sight. Rough night, cowboy?"

Zack grins and thinks, _well hell in a handbasket_, it really must have been. Reno's hair is drooping around his temples, he's got a stepladder of angry, red, bruises up and down his throat, and he still smells like fire around the edges. He doesn't know who this Axel is, but he's intrigued.

In response, Reno groans and kicks out under the table, smacks into one of Shisui's shins instead. The kid rolls his eyes and kicks back, harder. "Goddammit, Zack, how can you always be so fucking cheerful in the morning? And yeah, I feel like shit. Haven't partied like that since I was like, fuckin' fifteen, yo."

"You do know that it's almost four, right? Just because you've been sleeping and fucking for the last forty hours doesn't mean the rest of us follow your schedule." Shisui snickers, dips a couple of fries into his chocolate milkshake and pops them all into his mouth. Reno grimaces. "Dammit, that cousin of yours is rubbing off on you, isn't he?"

Shisui opens his mouth, waves a fry in Reno's direction- taunting. "You're just jealous cause your food isn't here, yet." Zack laughs, because that is _definitely_ what's got Reno's panties in a twist. The late afternoon sun is coming in through the diner windows, getting at just _that_ angle that's constantly getting in your eyes no matter what you do. Zack tips his hat down, but that doesn't help quite so much.

"Fuck, Zack, with that hat, you aren't fit to be calling anyone _cowboy_ 'cept yourself," Reno groans, rubs the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Shisui shifts, bends to scoop something out of his pocket, draws out a bottle of painkillers and chucks it at Reno's forehead. To their surprise, Reno _actually_ fails to catch it, and the bottle bounces off to land in Shisui's milkshake.

They both blink at Reno for a moment and Shisui grins, "God, he must have really fucked your brains out, huh?"

Reno grumbles and reaches in to extricate the bottle from the milkshake, chocolate clinging to the sides of the bottle as he draws it out. He licks the excess chocolate from his fingers, pops the tab and shakes three pills loose. Downs them dry.

"You try being the main course for a horny incubus for three straight days and see the fuck how you feel." Zack watches, grinning, as their waitress stops a couple paces away from their table and quickly does an about-face, seemingly forgetting that she's still holding Reno's cheeseburger.

"It was worth it though, right?" he asks, cheerfully scooping a bite of cherry pie onto his fork. Shame, it's nowhere near as good as Itachi's.

Reno's eyes glaze over a bit when he grins, headache all but forgotten. "Fuck yeah. Like, you have no idea."

A different waitress finally arrives with Reno's burger, and she walks away so fast that he can't even ask for a refill. Zack scowls over at Reno. "C'mon man, these girls are nice an' you're all scarin' em away with your bruises and your talk of _demons_. Keep it down a bit, would ya?"

Reno makes a happy sound into his burger, juice dribbling down his chin. When he pulls away, he licks his lips. "_God,_ that is a good goddamned cheeseburger."

Zack clears his throat, takes another bite of his pie- gulps down some milk. "Tifa's got a job for us," he says, reaching over to steal one of Shisui's fries. Reno makes an affirmative noise and sets the burger down. "-Yeah, she called me too. Your boy-toy need help, huh?"

Nonplussed, Zack nods. "Tifa's pretty busy holding down the bar, so she asked if we could go. Old time gods, I hear. Should be pretty fun."

Reno shrugs and picks his burger back up. "What the hell, if you let me sleep on the way, I'm in."

Zack looks to Shisui, who is contemplating his milkshake as if it holds the scientific truths of the universe. Grinning, he jostles the kid a bit. When Shisui looks up, he's got that _look_, the one that means he's dead set on doing something and it's probably going to be stupid. "Can Itachi come?" he asks.

Reno sputters, _"It's not a fucking field trip, kid-"_ but Zack just looks at him, pretends that inside he isn't doing cartwheels because seriously, _pie_, asks,

"Do you really think the kid's ready for this?"

Shisui looks unsure, but manages to nod. Then tries to grin. "You know Itachi, he excels at _everything_. He was probably ready for this before I was."

"And are you sure you'll be okay with the job? How're the ribs?"

Shisui shrugs.

"They don't hurt anymore."

Reno's still protesting, mumbling something about too many fucking kids and babysitting. Around them, there are hundreds of sounds. The guy a couple tables over that's sawing into his steak so hard that the edge of it is scraping against the plate, the kid three booths down who's chewing with his mouth open. The jukebox crooning out old 80's hits.

The sun is shining, the weather is nice as can be, and he's about to go see Cloud and help him get rid of a whole bunch of ghosts. As far as he's concerned, the day's great.

He shovels the rest of the pie into his mouth and slides to his feet, stretching once. "Then what are we waiting around here for?" He grins wider, deftly snatches the check from the table and flings it in Reno's direction.

"I ain't afraid of no ghost!"


End file.
